


darkness swallows a dying star

by pendules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Season 9 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas's vessel is rejecting the grace he stole and Dean is apparently going through withdrawal, from <i>murder</i>, and they make a fine pair, really, the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	darkness swallows a dying star

Cas's vessel is rejecting the grace he stole and Dean is apparently going through withdrawal, from _murder_ , and they make a fine pair, really, the both of them. Shut up inside the bunker, going slightly crazy. And Dean figures this is what rock bottom looks and feels and tastes like. They've come close before, but this - this is a brand new kind of torture.

"What does it feel like?"

"Right now, it's like a constant, head-splitting headache. Pretty soon I'll start bleeding out my eyes," he says casually.

Dean doesn't say anything and just pours Cas a glass.

"Well - Sam's researching stuff." It's probably just a distraction at this point, to stop thinking about it, the way Dean wishes he could. It's pretty hard to ignore when there's something living inside you calling out for blood and death and destruction. Sam's best when he thinks he's doing the most he can to help, so Dean will leave him to it. And Crowley's - well, God knows. Or doesn't. He's probably half a world away with the blade and the itching in Dean's fingers is intensifying with every minute.

"You or me?"

Dean shrugs. It's pointless anyway. No book has the answers to their problems. That's how fucked-up they are; no one in the history of the universe has probably ever had these exact symptoms.

"What's gonna happen? To the grace, I mean? When it leaves?" He doesn't want to ask, _What's going to happen to_ you _?_

"I'm not sure," he says, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps find a new vessel. Or return to where it came from."

"Where it came from?" Dean asks, suddenly curious.

"Yes, to the universe," he says simply.

"Is that what happens when - when angels die?" he asks, quiet, solemn for the first time.

"Yes. The energy is not lost. Just changed into a new form. It's science, Dean." He smiles, and Dean's missed that. Oh, God, he's missed it.

"That's - that's a nice thought," he says. And it sounds good, sounds peaceful. It's nice to know, that the essence of thousands of angels (dicks or not) could be surrounding them now. That - that even if Cas dies, he'll still be here. Not in the sad, unfinished way of ghosts, but like he's giving himself back, enriching the world, making it a better place.

"I've never really thought about it. About dying. When you live for so long, you don't think about it. It just seems to happen."

"And then you come back."

"Not forever though."

Personally, Dean's seen them both die enough for ten million lifetimes. Maybe the next one, the next time, maybe it _should_ be the last.

"What's going to happen if I don't get rid of this mark soon?" And they haven't really talked about it up until now. Cas had just stared at it and then grabbed his arm for a moment before he let him go, like he was disgusted. He didn't say anything for a while and Dean was worried, but then he just called him an idiot which, hey, hadn't they decided to be idiots _together_?

"The more you kill, the worse it gets, Dean. If you kill Abaddon…and Crowley…it won't be the end."

"So I'm doomed, basically."

"We seem to be, yes." _We_. Dean pretends to not notice it.

*

Day three and Dean cooks them all dinner, mostly to have something to do with his hands.

Sam's telling them what they already know, that they have to find Metatron and Cas's grace before the stolen one rips his vessel apart, that Crowley's hunting down Abaddon's followers and he'll find her any day now. He says it like it's something to be optimistic about. Cas just gives Dean a dark look.

Sam wolfs down most of his pasta in a couple minutes and then he's gone, back to the library.

Cas just sits really still, staring at him.

"What?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"You need to talk to him."

"He doesn't - he doesn't _want_ to know. Trust me."

"Dean, he's your _brother_."

"But he can't do anything for me, so what's the _point_ ," he says impatiently.

"I don't think you'd want him to, even if he could."

"What do you mean?" Dean's so frustrated now.

"I mean, you think you deserve this. Because of Sam. Because of Kevin."

"Cas, I don't know what I deserve or don't deserve anymore. It doesn't matter anyway. That's not how it works."

"You don't deserve this, Dean."

"Hey, you don't either. We don't ever get what we deserve, Cas." He raises his beer before he sips it, like he's toasting to that.

*

It's dark now, and there's only a small light on the nightstand. The door's slightly ajar and Dean's sitting on the bed when Cas comes in.

"You're not a bad person, Dean."

"Cas -"

"No, Crowley's been telling you all kinds of things that aren't true. But he knows you'll believe it, because you already think that about yourself."

"I don't - I just don't know where I belong anymore. It used to be here, with Sam. That was always the constant. Now, I'm just - I'm lost, I'm drifting through space and there's no one there. There's just _emptiness_. I'm trying to fill it, with Abaddon and Metatron and _revenge_ , but I don't know if I'll ever be able to. I'm burned-out, Cas. There's nothing left."

"You still have me, Dean," and he's close enough now to rest a hand on his shoulder, feel all the tension he's carrying there.

"But what if I don't anymore? What if we can't save you?" he says, finally turning around, looking at him, eyes wide and haunted in the tiny glow.

Cas doesn't say anything and they just stay there in silence, in the dim light, for a while.

*

"If it _was_ your last day, what would you do?" Dean asks out of the blue. They're pretending to watch TV, but Dean's just flicking through the channels, sometimes forgetting to for a few minutes, his mind so far away. Cas doesn't notice, or doesn't care. He looks at him now, confused or considering, Dean's still not entirely sure.

And they've been here before, but that ended pretty disastrously. Also, hilariously. That's the place he's come to now, looking back at memories of the apocalypse fondly.

"I wouldn't do anything. I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be." And this is just Cas's usual uncomfortable earnestness, right? He's not scared. _They're_ not scared. They've been through the ringer so many times that they can't be scared. It's never been about dying. It's leaving. Leaving people behind and things undone, disappointing the people they promised to protect, failing. The job's not over. Dean's job isn't over, as long as Sammy's here, and Cas is here. Maybe it won't ever be over.

"There has to be something though -"

Cas takes a breath before he speaks.

"Do you know what it's like - to know of all the wonders and terrors of the universe and yet have your world reduced to just _one thing_?"

And Dean just nods. "Yeah, I do. I did before I met you."

And Cas is just looking at him, looking like he understands and like he never could at the same time.

"You know, I used to kind of hate you for it." He says it maybe to break the moment, maybe just because he has to. He laughs a little, remembering, though.

Cas narrows his eyes.

"Pulling me out, I mean."

"Dean -"

"No, it's not - I mean, I know I was just being a selfish asshole. I know that now. But I thought that if I stayed, maybe I would forget, eventually. What I _did_. Who I was. I wouldn't be me anymore. And then I was back here and I couldn't get away from it."

"You came back to Sam though."

"Yeah," Dean says. "Yeah."

"Do you wish you were still there?" he asks, and it's cautious, as cautious and tactful as Cas is capable of.

"Sometimes. Do you wish you were still in heaven?"

"Sometimes."

"It's just - things are clearer down below. And up above, I guess. Or used to be. It used to be simple. Just having one, clear goal. Here, now - everything's just messy."

"Yes, humanity does tend to make a mess." He smiles wryly.

"Why is it so hard knowing what the right thing is, Cas?"

"I don't know, Dean." And maybe there are some things they'll never understand about each other, but this - _this_. Being the ones who are supposed to decide what's right and wrong but never, ever knowing for sure. They both know about that all too well.

They knew once though, they did. When they fought demons and angels and leviathans, standing side by side, when they chose _this_ , messy, painful, broken humanity, over heaven and hell and peace and paradise.

*

They're leaving, off to find Metatron. Finally, _finally_. 

They're almost at the door when Cas turns around.

"You know, I didn't just pull you out. You saved me too. I hope you don't regret that."

"I don't." It's the most certain he's been about anything, although right now he's not certain about much at all.

"Well, I don't regret saving you either. I don't regret knowing you either. Not _one thing_ about it." And then Dean gets it, really gets it. Because they've failed over and over and lost so much but they're still _here_. And they would do anything for each other, even when the other doesn't think he deserves it. They would walk into hell, turn their backs on heaven, kill anything in their path, stop the world ending. They would watch each other die, stay until the last moment. They would bring each other back from the brink. They would open each other's eyes, make each other want to live even if they don't want to themselves. They would survive this.

And they will.


End file.
